


The Kindest Use A Knife

by amyfortuna



Series: 2015 Season of Kink (Card 1) [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (Badly) Attempted Murder, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Father Figures, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Necrophilia, Pseudo-Incest, Revenge, Twisted and Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond has brooded on his vengeance for fourteen long years, and tonight, he's going to take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kindest Use A Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/gifts).



> This also fulfils my Season of Kink square for 'authority figures'.

The knife, sharpened carefully, had been hidden under the bed hours beforehand. Elrond paced back and forth in front of the mirror, checking the room over with great precision, and then checking himself over too. Tonight, everything had to be _perfect_.

Maedhros and Elros were away with the majority of the soldiers, and were not expected back for another seven days at least. By then, Elrond would be long gone, and Maglor only a memory. Revenge would be swift and deadly, though it had been long-awaited, and Elrond would flee for the coast, hoping to find a way to the Isle of Balar and the safety of the kin he did not really remember meeting - names and vague faces: Galadriel, Celeborn, Gil-galad. Everything was ready. It just remained to do it. 

Elrond took another glance at himself in the mirror, assessing his chances of success. At twenty, he was outgrowing his youthful coltishness, beginning to develop grace along with muscle. His long dark hair was braided in several braids down his back, and his serious eyes could turn from study to laughter in a moment. He had watched Maglor for years - for every moment since they had been kidnapped, really, and had taken careful note of what Maglor liked, in every way. Had made sure to please him in study, in training, and even in careful doses of affection, until Maglor's eyes always softened when he was near, when despite himself his heart would thump painfully in his breast at the thought of what he was planning, what he would shortly be doing. 

Revenge was a lonely business. In much younger days, Elrond had tried to discuss the need for it, the rightness of it, with Elros, but had quickly learned that Elros simply wasn't interested. Elros preferred action to planning, deeds to thoughts, and the future to the past. 

It was left to Elrond to uphold the honour of his family, to avenge his mother's death, the slaughter of everyone he had known, and the destruction of the Havens. His revenge would be a slow knife to the heart, sliding between Maglor's ribs, the deepest, cruellest cut. 

Footsteps came toward him along the corridor now, and he turned toward the door, hands flying to his hair, twisting the end of one of his braids unconsciously. Fourteen years' worth of planning revenge, and it would be over in an evening. Maglor pushed open the door after a quick cursory knock, and leaned against the doorframe, smiling. "Good evening, Elrond."

Elrond's heart fluttered despite himself and he returned the smile shakily. "Good evening, come in," he said, hoping the way his voice shook wasn't noticeable, or if it was, could be put down to another cause. Maglor tossed him another sweet smile, and entered the room, seeming to take it all in at a glance. Elrond hoped again that he had put the knife fully out of sight, but didn't dare look over to check. 

Maglor sat down on the bed, and gave him a long lazy seductive look. "Well, don't just stand there," he said at last in a tone of amusement. "At least shut the door, unless you'd like the entire fort to know what you confessed to me earlier today." 

"Of course not," Elrond murmured, letting his hands fall to his sides, and turned to shut the door and lock it. He turned back again, feeling odd and unnatural, and made his way over to the bed, sitting down next to Maglor, suddenly unable to look him in the face. Maglor turned, and took his chin in a steady hand, raising his head to meet his eyes. 

"Don't be afraid, Elrond," he said, and the tone was so reassuring. "Whatever you wish to do , I am willing." 

Elrond leaned forward. That mouth had tempted him for as long as he'd been aware of such a thing as sexual temptation, and bitter revenge or not, he would have his share of kisses first. Maglor breathed out a sigh and tangled his hands in Elrond's braids, and they kissed, slowly at first, a soft press of lips against lips. Then Maglor opened his mouth, yielding to Elrond and teaching him at the same time, touching his tongue to Elrond's and then retreating, waiting for Elrond to follow him. 

That low groan had been his own, Elrond realised a moment later, and then pressed Maglor back into the pillows, drawing back from the kiss to assess the situation. Maglor was wearing a blue robe that could be easily removed, and Elrond blushed as he thought of why this was the case. Maglor lay sprawled on the pillows, dark hair loose and tumbling down in waves, grey eyes sparkling in some kind of mischief or delight. 

_He has no idea_ , Elrond thought to himself. He kissed Maglor again, feeling a frisson of desire sweeping through him, mingled with guilt and anger. 

"Take your clothes off," Maglor whispered when the kiss broke, eyes dark. "I'll show you what to do."

Elrond nodded, moving away for a moment, and slipped out of his garments. Maglor sat up, and shrugged his robe off quickly, letting it pool down on the floor carelessly. Reaching into the pocket, he pulled out a small bottle of oil and beckoned Elrond over. 

Naked now, Elrond came to stand before him, blushing furiously. Maglor was very pleasing to look at naked, lean and well-muscled, golden skin and long dark hair. He had the sort of face that looked always serious, except when he laughed or played music, and then his face truly came alive. Elrond looked at him for a moment, and revised the list: laughed, played music, or made love, for his face was alight with pleasure and delight right now. 

"I think you should take me," Maglor said, holding the bottle out to Elrond. "That is, if you want to?" 

"Do you like it?" Elrond said, hesitating. He was aware of the mechanics - it was Maglor himself who had explained these facts to him, several years ago now when he first began to show signs of development. But this was something he did not know. 

Maglor grinned. "Oh, yes, very much indeed," he said. "I think I should like anything you want to do with me, Elrond!" He lay back on the bed, legs spread, hand on his own cock, pumping up and down for a few strokes. Elrond's mouth felt suddenly dry as he knelt between Maglor's legs. He could _smell_ the scent of his arousal, bitter and faintly salty, could see the scars Maglor bore from years of combat, white against his golden skin. Almost without thought, he bent and kissed one of them, just at Maglor's hipbone, tongue feeling along the raised portion of skin. 

Maglor's hand landed on his head, gently petting it over and over, in a gesture that felt more fatherly than loverlike. Elrond found, to his own consternation, that he was growing harder at every touch, that he needed to obtain some kind of relief soon. Maglor moved his hips restlessly and Elrond refocused. 

He slid a finger down Maglor's cock, teasing, and then bent his head for a quick taste. Maglor's head went back on the pillows and his eyes slipped shut. _Now I could do it_ , Elrond thought but made no move for the knife, to his own surprise, continuing to lap delicately at the head of Maglor's cock, and then suck, hearing a low moan from Maglor. After a moment, he oiled his fingers and slipped them below Maglor, feeling for his hole. 

Maglor let out a loud groan when Elrond breached him with one finger, staring up at him with dazed eyes. "It's been a very long time," he whispered, holding Elrond's eyes with his own. "Prepare me well, I've always needed careful lovers."

Elrond could not trust himself to speak, but nodded, and pressed in further, gently, then pulled out and added more oil. His fingers were very slippery now, and he put one finger back in, and after a moment when Maglor nodded, added another. Maglor let out a faint hissing breath, his hand coming up to trace patterns over Elrond's skin. Elrond ducked his head again, taking Maglor's cock back into his mouth while he thrust the two fingers in and out for a while. The heat and slickness of Maglor gripped him and he could not wait to have his cock inside him. It was as if some other force had taken him over, and he could not think of revenge until he had found release from it. 

He pressed in a third finger, at last, to Maglor's long groan. Maglor's eyes were closed now, and his hand was on his own cock, lazily stroking up and down. "Elrond," he said, and the name was a caress, "please, fuck me now, won't you?" 

Elrond could not resist a quick desperate moan at this. He pulled his fingers out of Maglor, and quickly coated his own cock with oil. Maglor's eyes opened and he watched him stroke himself, one, two, three times, letting out a breathless sigh. And at last Elrond lined himself up, carefully, raising Maglor's hips, and pressed inside, letting out a long trembling breath at the feel of the tight heat around his cock. 

Maglor immediately put his legs around Elrond's waist, and Elrond fell forward and further into Maglor. He was tall enough that he could kiss Maglor like this, and felt Maglor's erection rubbing against his stomach. It was overwhelming - Maglor's hand in his hair, Maglor's mouth on his, being all the way inside Maglor, feeling Maglor blatantly rubbing off against him. It was everything he'd ever wanted, aside from one overarching duty and need that had to be answered as well. 

And now it would be. For now that he was inside Maglor, time seemed to slow down, and his thrusts were minute, subconscious movements. He drew back from the kiss, stroking Maglor's erection with one hand, and reached for the knife with the other, watching Maglor's face to be sure his eyes remained closed. 

When he moved to grab the knife, Maglor's eyes flew open. They were watching each other, carefully, steadily. Maglor's hand still slid up and down his own erection as if he had forgotten to stop moving; Elrond was moving a little, too, buried in Maglor, almost forgetting that he was still aroused in his focus on the deed he meant to do. 

"Do you plan to come before you kill me or after?" Maglor asked casually, a shadow of a smile passing over his face as Elrond raised the knife. 

"What?" Elrond said, startled, and nearly dropped the blade, bringing it down to his side, making sure to keep it out of reach of Maglor's hands. 

"Just what I said," Maglor answered in an amused tone, but something cold and calm creeping into his voice. "Take your pleasure from this warm, willing, alive body, or shudder out your release as I take my last breath, your revenge complete?" His lips quirked, and his hand continued fondling himself, lazy turn after lazy turn over his cock. "I always thought we'd make a Kinslayer out of you yet. Do as you like. Whatever you wish, I am willing." 

Elrond frowned. "I had expected resistance. You fought all these years to die under me without even an attempt to survive?" Horrified, he noticed that their conversation had not diminished his arousal at all. His hips were thrusting into Maglor's body without any conscious thought on his part, the sensation of it sweeping over him like a storm. 

Maglor let out a gasp, eyes fluttering closed for a moment, but managed to shrug insouciantly. "Better you than some Orc." He raised a hand to Elrond's face, caressing him gently. "How kind of you to use a knife, to look me in the face, to give me pleasure to my last breath. Such a consummation devoutly to be wished for, in every sense." His voice was still steady, a little too calm. "Take me out of this world of sorrow, this vale of tears." 

Elrond stared blindly at him for a moment, horrified. "You really want me to do this." Maglor gave him an enigmatic smile, teasing, revealing nothing. Elrond could not stand it - he threw the knife against the stone wall furthest from the bed and it clattered down out of reach of both of them. He bent forward, kissing Maglor possessively. 

"This is not revenge if you desire it so, but assisted suicide," he said, and picked up the pace of his thrusts, knocking away Maglor's hand and curling one of his hands around Maglor's cock, while winding the other one into his hair and pulling, not gently. It was as though his entire body had been overcome by desire and a strange kind of melting yearning need, that having refused to kill Maglor, he could only think to possess him completely. 

Maglor gasped and surged up into Elrond's hand, kissing Elrond's mouth back just as hard and possessively as he'd let himself be kissed. Then he sank back into the pillows as Elrond pounded into him. 

With a desperate gasp, Elrond came hard, almost out of the blue, so focused was he on the movement of their bodies and bringing Maglor to the point of release. Maglor followed him down, spurting between their bodies, moaning sweetly, tossing his head from side to side. Slumped down over him, Elrond gave Maglor a long kiss, tender in all the ways that his earlier kisses had not been. 

They disentangled themselves after a moment with mutual groans, and Elrond slid out of Maglor with a wet sound that was horrifying and arousing at the same time. 

"Am I bleeding?" Maglor asked as Elrond made to lie down next to him. Elrond, confused for a moment, checked Maglor over, then realised what he was asking, looked down at where his own seed was seeping from Maglor's body, and shook his head. Maglor smiled briefly. He dipped a hand between his legs, gathering up some of Elrond's seed with his long fingers, and brought it to his mouth, licking it away like a cat with cream. Elrond let out a low groan, and arousal sparked all along his veins as surely as if he had not just come. Maglor finished licking his fingers and curled up against Elrond, laying his head on Elrond's upper arm. Without thinking about it, Elrond put his arms around him, and there was silence for a long moment. 

After some time, Maglor began to sing softly, a new song that Elrond had never heard before: 

_You love and you hate_  
_And ask how can this be?_  
_For both are very great_  
_As boundless as the Sea._

_I love and I hate_  
_And ask what should I do?_  
_Something that will sate_  
_My hateful love for you._

_You love and you hate_  
_And ask why you feel so_  
_Come early or come late_  
_This loving hate you know._

_I love and I hate_  
_And ask where can I go_  
_In your arms I wait_  
_For death's final blow._

As Maglor's voice died away, Elrond found himself holding him tighter. "I won't kill you," he said. 

Maglor sighed. "Oh, you will. With a kiss or with a blade, it makes little difference. You'll be the death of me." 

Elrond found himself laughing. "Did you not once tell me that your foresight is appalling?" 

"It's not foresight this time," Maglor said, pressing a kiss to Elrond's throat. "It's common sense. We always kill what we love. Look at Maedhros to see that plainly enough."

"What makes you think I love you?" Elrond said, a tinge of remembered, beloved, bitterness entering his voice. "I hate you." 

"What makes you think they are not near enough to each other, my dear?" Maglor quickly retorted. "The only true hatred is indifference. You could not kill me because you would destroy yourself in doing so, for you have built up a world that consists of revenge. You counted on my resistance; you assumed I would care whether I live or die, and your world fell apart." His voice was the same one he used when teaching, mild and calm, and Elrond felt dazed by it. "I think you love me. You have been playacting love for so long that you forgot how to truly hate." He pressed his lips to Elrond's collarbone, then raising his head, to Elrond's throat and jawline. 

"How shall I avenge my mother?" Elrond said, voice breaking a little. "How do I make you pay for what you have done?" 

Maglor gave a little huff of a sarcastic laugh. "You well know I have little gold, and everything I have may as well be yours, when it comes to that. In any case, I refuse to allow you to avenge your mother, for the simple fact that she's not dead. She turned into a bird and flew away." He raised himself on an elbow to look into Elrond's eyes. "I saw it." 

Elrond shook his head. "Please don't think you can appease me with lies from my childhood. Elves don't turn into birds. That doesn't happen." 

"Then how do you explain the star?" Maglor lifted up his hand and pointed out one of the narrow windows in the room, where Gil-Estel could be seen shining low in the evening sky. "It's the Silmaril. I know that light." 

Elrond sat up on the bed, hugging his knees to himself, staring out at the star. Maglor joined him, feet dangling off the side of the bed, an arm around his shoulders. But for their nakedness, it could have been any bedtime conversation in the last twelve years. 

"I don't know," Elrond said after a moment. "What of all your other deeds?"

Maglor pressed his mouth to Elrond's shoulder. Elrond slowly relaxed a little, leaning against Maglor. "They're not yours to avenge," Maglor breathed. "Vengeance will find me, but you should not be the instrument of it." 

"What, then, shall I do?" Elrond turned his head away from the star, looking into Maglor's eyes, so close to his. 

"Live," Maglor whispered softly, sincerely, eyes wide. "My beloved, live."

**Author's Note:**

> Spot the references! 
> 
> **The Dark Knight Returns** : _You see, it’s the slow knife, the knife that takes its time, the knife that waits years without forgetting, then slips quietly between bones. That’s the knife that cuts the deepest._
> 
>  **Hamlet** : _Now I could do it..._ and _...a consummation devoutly to be wished..._
> 
> Oscar Wilde's **The Ballad of Reading Gaol** :  
>  _Yet each man kills the thing he loves_  
>  _By each let this be heard,_  
>  _Some do it with a bitter look,_  
>  _Some with a flattering word,_  
>  _The coward does it with a kiss,_  
>  _The brave man with a sword!_
> 
> _Some kill their love when they are young,_  
>  _And some when they are old;_  
>  _Some strangle with the hands of Lust,_  
>  _Some with the hands of Gold:_  
>  _The kindest use a knife, because_  
>  _The dead so soon grow cold._
> 
>  **Catullus 85** : _I hate and I love at once. How can this be, you ask? I do not know, but I feel it to be happening, and I am in torment._


End file.
